This vital area is the solar plexus of Uncle Sam, and an army of a hundred thousand trained men, landed on our Atlantic seaboard, would be able to capture this entire area and subdue the populace as easily as the police force of New York can subdue a rioting mob.
While we were arming and training our million men to make the Carnegie swoop, the army of invaders would be very busy.
They would commandeer all our above-mentioned factories, and proceed to operate them with skilled American labor, which they would also commandeer and force to work, just as the Germans have forced the Belgians to work for them, and Mr. Carnegie's army of citizen soldiers would find themselves without means either of arming themselves or of supplying themselves with ammunition or of getting the skilled labor necessary to do the work.
But this is not all that the invaders would be doing while we were getting our million men together. They would have means of knowing what we were doing, and they would send out a detachment and defeat our whole enterprise. They would probably levy on New York City for a billion dollars, and levy upon all the cities in the captured area for every dollar that could be squeezed from the inhabitants under threats of destruction.
Not only this, but they might take the notion, and probably would take the notion, to annex the conquered territory, just as Germany has annexed Belgium, and, as we should then automatically become citizens of the enemy's country, we should be conscripted and forced to fight our own people, just as the Belgians, according to report, have been forced into the ranks of the Germans.
Such a military measure is not new; it is as old as war itself. Frederick the Great frequently forced his prisoners to fight in his own ranks, and Napoleon Bonaparte sometimes gave them the option of joining his legions or of faring much worse. Attila took with him the entire male population of the countries through which he passed as additions to his military host. Those who resisted were immediately killed, and those he did not need were killed, whether they resisted or not. As to what may be done in war, there is no arbiter but necessity.
To receive an invading army is not so pleasant a thing as Mr. Carnegie assumes. As guests they are just about as lovable and make just about as good pets in the family as rattlesnakes, cobras, scorpions, and tarantulas.
A few Americans who were caught in the war zone when the present war broke out got some useful knowledge of war's inconveniences and harassments. What the people for whom there was no escape suffered in Belgium and Northern France, is beyond our powers of conception. No one who has not had personal experience can form the least idea of the barbarous atrocities perpetrated by an invading army on the defenseless population.
Invaders always live off the invaded country. It is considered more important that they should live well than that any one else should live at all. If, after the invaders' wants are supplied, there is enough left for the people to live on, well and good; if not, then the people must starve. The invaders must have food and clothing and the bare necessaries of life; also, they must have luxuries. They must have cigars and cigarettes, wine, women, and song. If our country should be invaded, we should not only have to furnish food, clothing, cigars, cigarettes, and wine for the armies of the enemy, but also our wives and our daughters and our sweethearts would be commandeered to supply the women and song.
Occasionally, an American citizen, with more manhood than discretion, would resent a nameless indignity, and kill some military blackguard, who would immediately be avenged by the burning of the town and the corralling and shooting of the people with machine-guns. This is not an overdrawn picture—the thing has actually been done in the present war.